


The Library

by Ariana Deralte (ArianaDeralte), ArianaDeralte



Category: Discworld - Pratchett, Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-09
Updated: 2009-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-04 07:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaDeralte/pseuds/Ariana%20Deralte, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaDeralte/pseuds/ArianaDeralte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oook," it said, and then the books attacked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Library

Harry glanced at Madam Pince again. She was staring resolutely down at her book, her lips pressed into a thin, hard line. He looked back at Maxwell Perkins, a sixth-year who was being held spread eagle against one wall by magic, with a gag in his mouth. Harry looked back at Madam Pince. Maxwell had been breathing too loudly apparently.

Harry frowned, and read the slip of parchment in his hand again. Hunting the Blacke Toade and other Scrowles by Veneficus Pigswoggle. He couldn't find it anywhere. Snape had probably given him the task because he knew the book was impossible to find. The professor would probably take extra glee out of taking points from Gryffindor when Harry turned up without the book for his individual assignment.

He wasn't going to give up though. Hogwarts had everything, even Lockhart's books. If Hunting the Blacke Toade and other Scrowles wasn't under Magical Beasts, then maybe it was under Magical Ingredients. He wished Ron hadn't annoyed Hermione so much asking for help with his own project. After his last request, she had retreated to her room and now refused to help either of them.

Harry headed down one of the stacks giving Maxwell a look of sympathy as he passed. The lighting grew dimmer the further he went, and the books took on an ancient look. He felt his eyes glaze over as he read title after title. It was awhile before he looked up. Ahead of him stretched two shelves of books, which was as it should be. But further down, he could no longer make out the rows, and saw only two converging lines that ended in a fuzzy point. A glance back towards the main part of the library revealed only a confusing greyness. He should be able to see Madam Pince's desk from here, shouldn't he?

He turned to the nearest books in the hopes that their titles would give him an idea of where in the library he was. Ne Cooking Methods, New Cooking Methods, Newe Cooking Methods, Neww Cooking Methods. It went on like that, down an entire row and into infinity. The same book, but the title misspelled by some mishap in printing. Out of curiosity he checked the opposite shelf. Infinite copies of The Nubian Sonnets – In Easy to Read Martian! graced the shelves.

Harry decided to hurry back the way he had come. He had obviously stumbled into some part of the library that he shouldn't have. But instead of reaching the centre of the library after a few minutes, the shelves continued to stretch out as far as he could see. He increased his pace to a run.

The books began to change. They started to resemble the books in the Restricted Section. Great big chains bound them to their shelves, and occasionally there was a sound from their pages that could not have been caused by a rat. Harry slowed to a walk. Something within him wanted a closer look.

This wasn't the brightest of ideas. Now that he wasn't a blur speeding by, he was sure the books were watching him, weighing him with whatever part of their bindings were considered brains.

One found him wanting. With a great leap it dove off the top shelf, its chain trailing behind it like a suicidal bungee jumper. Harry had a glimpse of the cover. Two children were riding a hippogriff and he could see the word 'Prisoner'. He had his hands up to protect himself, when a hairy red arm reached down and pulled him to the top of the stack.

Harry found himself face to face with the ugliest (and redish) monkey he had ever seen.

"Oook," it said, and then the books attacked.

* * *

The Librarian was in a bad mood. The Bursar had come in first thing, wanting to take out the same book on lace making he asked for every time he came in. The Librarian had yet to drive it into the Bursar's head that it was the same book he had taken out nearly ten years previously, and would he mind returning it? The Bursar had disappeared then in a rain of dried frog pills, which only confirmed for the Librarian how horrible the day was going to be.

He had hung a sign outside the Library then, telling all the students they were not to approach, unless they happened to have ten bananas handy, at which they were welcome to throw them through the door and run. He wasn't bothered by anyone for most of the day since all students did their level best to stay away from such places as libraries and departmental offices. In fact, the Librarian hadn't seen a student since last week when one of them had left him a book with a large curry stain on the inside, and a banana as compensation. Said student had last been seen on a long, and high altitude trip to Uberwald. There were some things that not even a banana could remedy.

His sign did not turn away the rest of the faculty of the Unseen University. In fact, it drew them to him, like a swarm of flies to carrion, though at least the flies were trying to survive.

The Librarian had been hiding in his bed near the front of the Library when the Archchancellor, Mustrum Ridicully, came in and cheerfully asked for an inventory of the entire library. The Librarian had pelted a perfectly good banana at him, before swinging into the depths of the library, where the only dangerous things were the accidental holes into the dungeon dimensions, time traps, alternate realities, roving bands of students who had gotten lost trying to find books on rude words, alternate worlds (remarkably similar to alternate realities, only not), inverted spatial dimensions, the previous librarian who no one talked about, and, oh yes, the books.

He had noticed the lost boy with the messy hair, but knew enough of causality to recognize the hero in a story and left the child alone. Or so he had intended until he realized the boy had wandered into one of the most dangerous sections of a library – the section where the books are all about you. The books attacked, and he was forced to pull the child out of danger.

"Why's there a monkey in the library?" the boy asked.

* * *

Harry woke up on the floor of the Hogwarts library to see Madam Pince peering down at him. He blinked at her in surprise, and adjusted his crooked glasses. There were red hairs all over his robes, and he felt like Dudley had run him over. Twice.   
"Out," said Madam Pince. Harry left, a book on identifying non-magical animals clutched firmly in his hand.


End file.
